


learning to make others fine

by batofgoodintent (crownedcrusader)



Series: batbro angst (alt: sorry dickie g) [3]
Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Fear gas, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, wow another tim and dick bonding fic what a shock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-28
Updated: 2017-08-28
Packaged: 2018-12-21 02:54:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11934831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crownedcrusader/pseuds/batofgoodintent
Summary: Tim helps Dick calm down after exposure to a new strain of fear gas.





	learning to make others fine

**Author's Note:**

> also posted on tumblr (timdrakeothy)

“So much for the vaccine for fear gas,” Tim said, passing Dick a bucket. Nothing had come up yet, but there was a distinctive green-pale sheen to his brother’s face, and Tim knew better than to take unnecessary risks. There was a sound of heaving nonetheless, only a slightly better response to Tim’s muttering than Dick’s usual puns. 

It took a moment, but finally the sounds dissolved into raspy breaths. Tim couldn’t decide if that was a good or a bad thing.

Dick, for his part, closed his eyes and just focused on his breathing. It was strange to see him like this, folded in on himself in a way that didn’t reflect a yoga how-to. Hunched over, with his head resting on a forearm spread over his knees.  _Shaking_. 

Tim didn’t know what to do. 

Dick was the one who was supposed to have it together. Not fourteen year old Tim Drake who still wasn’t sure if he should be Robin. 

But Dick was also always the one trying to build his confidence and support him, and Tim couldn’t fail him now, not after all they’d been through together. And definitely not after all that Dick had done for him. Years of inspiration, of hope, for Tim along with the rest of Gotham. Who would he be if he let the original Robin down?

Tim took a breath, counted to five in his head. Tried to remember what sick people liked hearing, what scared people liked hearing. He gulped.  “Are, uh. Are you feeling any better?” 

Dick gave a moan of discontent, and Tim knew he wasn’t doing as good a job as Dick deserved. 

Though touch had never been a part of Tim’s life growing up, he knew it had been for Dick. More than that, he knew what Dick usually tried to give Tim when he was going through a hard time. 

After a moment’s deliberation, and no verbal response from his would-be big brother, Tim went for it. He put a hand on Dick’s back, feeling the tense muscles jump under his fingertips. 

“Hey, um, easy does it,” Tim said. “I don’t know what this fear gas is mixed with to be making you feel so sick on top of the, uh, fear part of it, but you’re gonna be alright.” 

Dick made another attempt at speech; this time, he got a lot further than before. “H’rts,” he said, voice thick and slow. “Hurts, Tim.” 

“I know, Dick, I know it hurts, we’re working on it, it’ll be done soon.” He bit his lip. He definitely didn’t know how it felt, and he didn’t know how long it’d take for Batman to configure a cure. Was lying okay here? He felt like Dick would be able to tell, but he didn’t want to discourage him or make him feel worse. After a moment’s second-guessing, he finally just said, “Try to relax, being this tense won’t help anything.” 

“Can’t relax,” Dick managed, shifting his face so his cheek, more than his forehead, rested on his forearm. “Can’t focus.” 

Tim made a mental note of that. But one problem at a time. Training, he remembered. He could only give his full attention to one thing at any given moment. Right now, it was just trying to get him to calm. “Close your eyes, you don’t need to focus,” he said. Once he saw that Dick’s eyes were shut, he gently started rubbing his hand in a circular motion. “There. Now, uh,” he started, faltering just for a moment. “Now just… try to take your head away, okay? Just relax.” 

Because that was the way to do it, right, just saying to calm down  _really_ helped, right? Tim mentally swore; he hadn’t had half the experience comforting people that he should’ve had prior to this. 

And yet, Dick still looked a bit better. 

Tim kept rubbing his back, murmuring some of the things Mrs Mac used to say when he was sick, and things he used to see on TV shows. Things like, “’It’s alright,” and, “you’re going to be just fine.” 

He felt like it wasn’t much – but it meant the world to him when Dick finally started to calm down. Because, eventually, he could feel the tense muscles relax under his fingertips, and Dick’s breathing evened from the hyperventilating he’d been doing, and he finally,  _finally_ stopped shaking. 

Tim had never thought he could feel so proud of something like this, but… 

To know that he could be there for the person who’d brought so much hope to his own life, the person who’d given hope to all of Gotham – to the  _Batman_ – he felt just a bit brighter himself. 

Maybe he  _could_ be a good Robin, someday. 


End file.
